


Lazy Sunday

by squidgirlfriends



Category: Splatoon
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Kissing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Useless Lesbians, posthn this on saturday to flex on that.... weekday order.., read this while listening to almost any glass animals song, what.. tags... wh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 14:21:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17003301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/squidgirlfriends/pseuds/squidgirlfriends
Summary: Pearl wants attention. Follow our brave protagonist as she valiantly fights a book for her fair lady’s hand.





	Lazy Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> this is gay and then a little sad but then it gets gay again

When scrolling through Inkstagram felt pointless—more so than usual—Pearl put her phone down, closing her eyes until the slight burn from looking at the screen subsided. She was half swallowed up by the beanbag chair in the corner of her bedroom, the soft pink fuzz enveloping her. She tossed her phone across the floor, watching it bounce on the carpet and fall face-down on the ground.

 Marina was laying on her stomach on Pearl’s bed a few feet away, reading one of the books from the fresh stack she’d taken out from the library a few days earlier.

Since laying around and staring blankly at social media for a few hours was extremely exhausting work, Pearl felt like falling asleep right there in the beanbag chair. It was warm, her head felt muddy and exhaustion tugged at her eyelids; it was the dictionary definition of a lazy Sunday.

She blinked sluggishly. Marina’s legs partially dangled off the edge of her bed. Her toes wiggled, her leg almost bouncing up and down like it did when she was watching a particularly intense scene in a movie. Pearl thought it was funny that the teal gradient on Marina’s fingertips matched the tips of her toes as well. She’d once joked that she could crack them and they’d start glowing like a bunch of mini glowsticks. Marina had threatened to slap Pearl if she tried cracking her fingers or toes.

Through a great deal of effort, Pearl pulled herself up from absolute blob position to an almost-upright sitting position. She slouched immediately, blood rushing to her head a little. A few more seconds, and she swung herself forward a little, landing on all fours on the floor in front of the beanbag chair. Her arms threatened to give, but Pearl was on a mission; she couldn’t fail now. She half-crawled, half-shuffled across the floor, eventually making it to the edge of her bed. She sat back on her legs, leaning against the side of the mattress with her cheek squished up against it.

After a moment more of regaining herself, Pearl braced herself against the mattress, and pulled herself up so she was standing on her knees, her arms resting on top of her bed. Marina didn’t even glance back at her, completely enraptured by her book. Pearl breathed deeply, sighing the air out of her lungs almost obnoxiously. Marina turned the page in that delicate way of hers, careful not to rip the paper.

Pearl didn’t have the energy to try and grab Marina’s attention just yet, so she rested her cheek on her forearms on the bed, settling instead for planning a counterattack. A book! She was fighting a battle for her own girlfriend’s attention with a book—and _losing_! She considered trying to tickle the back of Marina’s feet, but that would require a long quest around the edge of the mattress, plus she ran the risk of getting nailed in the face by a foot; Marina was ticklish, she kicked.

Pearl watched Marina read. The fact that she could sit for hours and blow through a two hundred and fifty page book in a day or two still baffled her. The last time she had read a book was in grade school, when she read some story for a book report she had to write. That book was only maybe thirty pages long, and _that_ was torture for her to read. She frowned.

Marina’s lips were chapped. (She picked at the skin when she was nervous; she hated wearing chapstick, anything that involved constant reapplication was trashed.) Pearl watched her gently run her knuckles over her mouth. She resisted the urge to reach over and take Marina’s hand. She had a feeling that today, the Pearl would triumph over the book.

Though it was cold, early-December weather outside, the central air in the Houzuki mansion made the place pretty warm; they both wore shorts. Pearl’s gaze wandered away from Marina’s face, down her only slightly-fidgeting tentacles, to the backs of her thighs, the soft spot behind her knees.

There were scars all over her back, trailing down to her upper calves. They were the worst on her thighs, but still only visible if you cast a second glance—faded, nearly disappeared—like a bad memory, something one would want to forget. Unfortunately, memories resurfaced in the dead of night. Horrible cries of phantom pain, subconsciously muffled into the pillows so she wouldn’t wake Pearl. Of course, this did not work. She would gently hold, let Marina cling tightly to her until the burning faded, until the shivering stopped and she was too exhausted to stay awake any longer. Pearl never pressed her for information, she never felt she should. Marina would tell her when she was ready; Pearl was happy just to have her and be allowed to comfort her during a bad night.

Last night had gone blissfully uninterrupted. They’d fallen asleep next to each other after going over half-formed ideas for new music.

Pearl reached her hand out as quietly as she could, tracing a finger along the back of Marina’s thigh. No response, not even a twitch. Pearl narrowed her eyes, spreading her whole hand over Marina’s leg.

Despite Marina’s lack of response, Pearl was still a woman on a mission. She was determined. Slowly, attempting something sensual, she slid her hand up Marina’s thigh until her hand reached the hem of Marina’s shorts.

“No,” Marina said flatly, pulling her leg out from under Pearl’s hand.

“Whaddya mean, no?” Pearl pouted.

“This is a crucial part of the story, you are _not_ going to break my focus with your grabby hands.”

“Grabby hands? They are not!” Pearl reached for Marina again, this time with more energy, but Marina was prepared, rolling away until she was on her stomach again, a full two feet further away from where she was before. Pearl slumped over the bed, not yet ready to admit defeat.

With the strength of a thousand squids, Pearl lugged herself up over the edge of the mattress, flopping on the bed and making it shake. Marina’s focus remained unbroken. Pearl scooted closer, until she was flush with Marina, their legs touching. She could hear the gentle, slow rhythm of Marina’s breathing.

She reached up and moved the tentacle hiding Marina’s face from her, tucking it behind her ear and leaning in closer. Pearl glanced at the book, trying to keep up with Marina as she turned the pages. She quickly lost interest in the book, and dipped her head a little, blowing a little puff of air on Marina’s ear. It twitched, and Pearl relished in the quiet little hitch in Marina’s breath. Pearl kissed her cheek, by her jaw. It was a bit of a difficult angle, but Pearl was persistent. She kissed her gently, again and again, turning her body and moving toward Marina’s ear, she could feel the heat flushing in Marina’s cheeks. Her finger twitched on the page, she read the same sentence three times, the words weren’t sticking like they had before.

She gasped when Pearl bit at her earlobe; she pulled away and let her forehead fall onto the open book. Pearl smirked, and it was only a moment before she lifted her head back up, shut the book, and gave Pearl a hard glare.

“You’ve successfully broken my focus. Are you happy?” The glare was less effective when it was painted over with a dark blush. 

Pearl’s smile only grew. “You know it, hot stuff. Here, lemme just…” she reached for the now-closed book and snatched it away before Marina could grab it again. She tossed it onto the floor.

“Hey! Be more careful with—oh- _mm_ ,” Marina began to protest, but Pearl had quickly cut her off by kissing her hard, taking her hand and flipping her over so she was on her back. Pearl hovered over her; she had already made quick work of her other hand, slipping under Marina’s sweater to feel the warm skin underneath.

Marina hummed little notes of pleasure, her eyes sliding shut, her own hands cupping Pearl’s cheek, the back of her neck. Her back arched the tiniest bit when Pearl forced the plush of her bottom lip open with her tongue, heat flushing through her at the noises coming out of her own mouth. In only a few minutes, she had been reduced to putty in Pearl’s hands, hot and squirming and no longer bothered by the sudden interruption of her reading.

Pearl pulled away, catching her own breath, and Marina lifted her head, chasing her lips for a moment, before lowering herself back to the bed. Pearl smirked as she looked over her handiwork, Marina’s eyes half-lidded and breathing just as hard as Pearl, dark blush coloring her cheeks.

Marina frowned. “What’re you smiling at?”

“Hm?” Pearl raised her eyebrows, gently running her fingers over Marina’s cheek. She felt one of Marina’s tentacles curling around her arm, a clear indicator that Marina wasn’t satisfied just yet. Pearl’s smile widened, a sort of giddiness bubbling inside of her.

Marina chuckled. “You’re so goofy.”

“ _You’re_ so goofy,” Pearl leaned down and kissed her gently. Marina sighed a little, squishing Pearl’s cheeks as she pulled away.

“We’re both disgusting.” Marina laughed, closing her eyes. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hit the chug jug hit the chug jug hit it 
> 
> (other realms i dwell: instagram/tumblr @ squidgirlfriends)


End file.
